


Dark and Stormy

by hutchynstarsk



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen, childhood fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchynstarsk/pseuds/hutchynstarsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a dark and stormy night.  Two young boys are stuck in an old house.  They try to find good things to talk about, instead of ghosts...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark and Stormy

Stormy and Dark  
by Allie

 

“Would you relax, Jed? It’s not dark yet, and it’s better than the orphanage.”

“But it’s gettin’ dark, Han!” The curly-headed boy looked around nervously. His slightly-taller cousin concentrated on walking quietly, the tip of his tongue sticking out of pursed lips as he concentrated. The boys’ holey boots struggled to find the least squeaky boards in the old, abandoned house. Because the ones that squeaked sometimes also went through.

Hannibal said, “I’m tellin’ you, if we find a good, safe spot, we can come here, get out of chores, beatings, bullies, all kinds of trouble.”

“Unless we get into more trouble,” muttered Jed. Still, he followed his cousin, the way he almost always did.

The abandoned building might be falling down around their ears, but it seemed like a good hiding place or fort to two smallish boys eager for a place of their own. At least, one of them was eager, and one of them went along with it.

“I was thinking upstairs. If the stairs will hold…” Hannibal took hold of the banister and stomped one foot experimentally down on the bottom step of the stairway he’d just reached.

Crunch! The ragged boot went right through the rotting wood.

Hannibal said one of his newly acquired swear words and worked his foot, then his boot, back out. His cousin blinked in surprise, and possibly admiration. “What’s that one mean, Han?” he asked.

“Uh—tell you later,” said Heyes, hopping in place putting his boot back on. Perhaps Jed still fit the category of ‘little pitchers.’ He’d decide later… “In the meantime, you climb up those stairs. You’re lighter, so they won’t break for you. Go on,” he urged. “Go up and look around, and see if there’s anywhere good for a hideout.”

Jed cast him a reproachful look. “I’m not that much lighter.”

“No, of course you’re not. You’re quite big for your age, and I’m a little gangly. But you are lighter, and we need to see if there’s a good spot up there, so, it’s your responsibility. Go on—I’m countin’ on you, Jed.”

Jed gave one nod, and headed up without protest, now that the essential facts (and his only-slightly-less-weightiness) had been established. 

He edged up the staircase, holding onto the wood-worm infested, wobbly banister. He did not stomp on the stairs as Hannibal had done, but tested each one carefully before putting his full (and nearly as much as Hannibal’s) weight on it. He treaded lightly, and was halfway up the stairs with good results when—it—happened.

BOOM! 

A crack of thunder rent the sky. At the bottom of the stairs, Hannibal jumped. Halfway up the stairs, Jed yelped and jumped. His grip tightened on the banister. The added pressure and weight of the jostling made it crack sideways. With a great splintering sound, part of it broke off and fell. Jed let go of it just in time, and wobbled in place on the untrustworthy stairs, now without a handhold.

Hannibal watched the whole thing with wide eyes. “Er, maybe you should come back down,” he suggested. “We can always check another—”

BOOM! A second crack of thunder, and both boys again jumped.

“Er—yeah.” Jed switched directions hastily and edged down the stairs. He concentrated hard on finding the same, safe footholds as before. One last explosion in the sky caught him again unawares—BOOM!—when he only had three steps left to go. At this point, he lost his nerve and shrieked, taking them at a run and barreling into his cousin in his haste.

Hannibal stumbled back, and both boys nearly fell. The wood creaked ominously under their scuffling boots, but didn’t go through. Finally, they got themselves steady on their feet, and regarded each other sheepishly, each hoping the other hadn’t guessed he’d been frightened.

“Startled me,” said Jed, by way of excuse.

“You’ll have to work on that,” said Hannibal, turning back to face the entrance. “Let’s go back to the orphanage. Don’t want to miss supper.” 

“Han…!” Jed caught up with him, whining a little. “Can’t go back in the thunder!”

“Thunder never hurt anyone.”

“But lightling, Han! You’re supposed to be the smart one! Lightling can kill people an’—”

“Lightning,” corrected Hannibal. He strode (as best one can stride over half-rotten floorboards) to the entrance, and peered out. Rain was now sheeting down, and sure enough, lightning flashed extremely close, followed almost instantly by a loud boom of thunder. He frowned at the sight, and swallowed. “Er—maybe we will stay a little longer.”

Both boys moved with relief away from the wet and scary entrance. There were no chairs, no furniture of any kind in the decaying, abandoned house, so the boys searched to find a relatively decay-free spot, and sat down, their legs stretched out in front of them.

Jed still wore short pants. His scrawny knees stuck out, with a couple of bruises on them. He reached down and began to scratch at a scab. “Jed!” said Hannibal, and Jed jumped a little, and drew his hand back guiltily. Hannibal looked down with some satisfaction to regard his own legs, clad in the long trousers he’d recently qualified for. Now no one could see if he had scabs or not. Most certainly they couldn’t see his own scrawny knees.

Outside, the rain continued to beat. If anything, it sounded heavier than ever. It was growing darker, too, the light from the doorway and broken windows doing a poorer job of illuminating the house.

Hannibal resigned himself to a certain length of a wait. “Well, we might as well talk about something. What do you want to talk about?” He might as well be nice to the kid, since they’d almost certainly end up spending the night in a cold wet (and most certainly NOT haunted) house, to get back the next day to a beating, and probably no breakfast either, and after all, Jed was younger and it would all be harder on him, and visiting the house had been Han’s idea, so—Jed deserved to pick the topic. 

Jed shrugged elaborately, trying to look as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “You could—if you wanted to—tell a story. Like you used to.” He cast a quick glance at his cousin, to see how the suggestion would be taken.

“Of course,” said Hannibal. “That’s a fine idea.”

Jed blinked. A fine idea? One of his ideas, was a fine idea? Well! His chest puffed up a little, and he smiled faintly. Even if it was damp and cold and he was getting awful hungry—Hannibal must realize he was growing up, and getting good ideas of his own! Of course, you’d have to be pretty grown up to not get scared of a storm like this, and an abandoned house in the dark where, if there was such a thing as ghosts, and of course there WEREN’T, but if there had been, they would probably, just sort of, feel slightly at home here. At least more at home than they would at a crowded, noisy orphanage. 

But Jed WAS grown up, and these things didn’t bother him in the least, and it was good that Hannibal realized that.

The older boy opened his mouth and took a deep breath to begin storytelling. A loud crack of thunder interrupted him, and his left eyelid twitched a little. Jed squeezed his hands between his knees, and clamped his teeth together tight. Not scared. No, sir. 

Hannibal glanced at him, as if he wanted to ask something. However, he only paused, and then began. “Once upon a time, on a dark and stormy night, two boys took shelter in an old house. It was broken and creaking, and full of cobwebs—”

“Han.” Jed cast his cousin a reproachful look. “NOT a scary story.”

Hannibal shut his mouth suddenly. Then opened it again. “Er, of course it’s not,” said Hannibal. He looked around the now very dimly lit room, as if searching for inspiration. “Once upon a time,” he began again, “on a dark and stormy night, two RABBITS took shelter in an old, abandoned house.”

A growling sound came from Jed’s throat. “Han—” he said—and then shivered again, when a huge gust of wind and rain swept into the building, banging the door (or what was left of it), and flapping around loose boards on the outside of the house.

Hannibal continued quickly. “The two rabbits took shelter from a storm, because they didn’t want to get their fur wet. However, the house was very old and no one lived there, so they had nothing to eat.”

Another reproachful look.

“However! Being rabbits, they weren’t smart enough to know there was nothing to eat, so they kept searching around. They searched—er—by a big fireplace.” He pointed to the dark spot hulking across the room, where a ghost certainly would enjoy himself. Jed shivered again. “And they searched by the—that spot.” Hannibal gestured again, as some of his articulateness abandoned him with another clap of thunder. “And they searched and searched, trying to eat the wood—the splintering, old wood—until they ended up prying up a loose board, to get a better grip for gnawing on it, and underneath, what do you think they found?”

“What?” said Jed, turning to look at his cousin and wait for what came next.

“Gold!” Hannibal’s arms flung wide, almost smacking his cousin in the mouth. Jed drew back, hastily. His cousin’s eyes were gleaming. “Lots and lots of gold! Someone had buried it there and forgotten it. The rabbits dug it out and stacked it, piece by piece. Shiny gold eagles, and ancient pirate-coins, gold doubloons, and—and Spanish coins, and Roman coins and—lots of coins,” he finished, running out of the ancient coins he’d heard of. 

Jed stared at him. “And then what did they do?”

Hannibal continued, “They piled the money high, higher than their ears. And then they fell to, trying to eat it…”

Jed laughed. “Stupid rabbits!”

Han smiled, showing a dimple. “Stupid rabbits.”

“Boys would’ve been smarter.”

“Uh huh.” Hannibal tilted his head, listening to the storm. “I think it’s moving on. Why don’t you stretch out and take a rest? I’ll keep watch. Maybe it’ll let up enough for us to go back to the orphanage.” They never said ‘home.’ Not anymore; they didn’t have a home. 

He smiled encouragingly at his cousin, who was still smiling over the silly story.

“Okay.” Jed nodded, making his curls bounce a little; he needed another haircut, thought Hannibal sternly. They didn’t take very good care of them, at the orphanage…. 

“But only if you wake me and then take a rest yourself. We’ll take turns watching,” said Jed.

“Okay,” agreed Hannibal easily.

The smaller boy gave another nod and then stretched out. After a minute, he changed his mind and curled up on his side, like a puppy. “Han?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to the rabbits?”

Hannibal thought of what probably really happened to such small, beleaguered rabbits. They lived short, brutish, hungry lives, prey to everything with teeth. They probably got shot by a farmer for trying to steal carrots, and died hungrier yet, without even getting to taste their bounty.

He cleared his throat; it hurt. “They waited till the storm let up, and then headed on to greener pasture. And those boys I told you about—they stopped by when the sun came out, and found the gold.”

“And they were so rich they bought a railroad,” mumbled Jed sleepily. 

Jed always could sleep anywhere; Hannibal was grateful for that. “Sure,” he agreed.

“And a general store, so they’d never be hungry. They could eat all the crackers an’ eggs an’ honeycomb an’ pickles and meat and bread they wanted.”

Hannibal swallowed. “That’s right. And they had candy every night.”

“What kinda candy?”

“Any kind they wanted. Go to sleep, Jed.”

“’Kay.” He edged nearer on the hard floor, till he was almost right next to his cousin. “There really aren’t any ghosts, are there, Han?”

“Nope. No ghosts.” Hannibal looked all around the now-very-dark room, and pulled his knees towards his chest. He put his arms around them, to keep warm. The storm continued to grumble and growl outside. Beside him, Jed began to snore gently. Now there was no one even to talk to.

It was going to be a long night.

 

>>


End file.
